


Just What You Want

by ouroboros



Series: Kagesuga Graduation [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Drinking, First Time, M/M, Making Out, Party, Post-Canon, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 18:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3947068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ouroboros/pseuds/ouroboros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suga is not surprised by the lack of words exchanged before they get to this point. Their entire history is wrapped up in quiet, unspoken things, in long looks and in how they had moved on the court. They’d played for each other in more ways than one, and it doesn’t take much for Suga to know what Kageyama, in his heavy lidded, shallow-breathed, deep dark stare, wants.</p><p>And Suga is ready, <i>so</i> ready, to give it to him. To drive it into him, rhythmic and wet and even.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just What You Want

**Author's Note:**

  * For [searwrites (sears)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sears/gifts).



> So in my previous Kagesuga fic, [You've Known it the Whole Time](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3713590), there was a part that went like this:
> 
>  _He remembers their first time, the night Kageyama graduated Karasuno. It had been all teeth and rough hands and groans buried into each other’s necks as they discovered hot and bright things about each other’s bodies, rushed on by alcohol and the sounds of the party happening in Kageyama’s living room. That had been good, too. So good, Kageyama remembers, and exactly what he’d been wanting, at the time_.
> 
> This is that scene, fleshed out. It takes place right after the second part of that story, when they leave Kageyama's graduation ceremony to go to the party. You can definitely understand this without having read that fic, but you'll have more context if you read it (in whatever order). Plus it will make me happy if you read both ;~;
> 
> Written for Searwrites, for listening to me wail about this ship, and for writing me [perfect domestic fluff](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3812182).

Dinner is a fun enough event. It is nice catching up with coach Ukai and Takeda sensei. The first and second years take up most of his conversational time, though, asking Suga all about his years on the team, and what it was like being Kageyama-senpai’s senpai.

“Challenging,” he says, meeting Kageyama’s gaze, steady, across the table. Kageyama doesn’t move his face at all, just stares him down, his eyes on fire, his mouth a solid line.

He isn’t like that for the whole meal, though. Suga watches him talk softly to his younger teammates, like they’re small kittens he is trying very hard not to smush in his grip. His kindness is a concerted effort, Suga can tell, but it also seemes to suit him, and with each well thought-out compliment, or polite request to pass the gyoza, his first and second years’ smiles bloom wider.

Kageyama finds plenty of time between eating and captaining to stare, though, and Suga isn’t sure if he is doing it accidentally, or if he just doesn’t care at all who’s watching. It’s sort of thrilling.

 

The atmosphere at Kageyama’s house, after, is different. There are no more adults (his mother had excused herself upstairs to her room with a “have fun, boys!”), and it isn’t long before Tsukki and Yamaguchi unzip their backpacks and pull out more kinds of alcohol than Suga would’ve thought they could name. His eyebrows raise, and Tsukki just says “My brother got it all for us.”

Kageyama shrugs, holds his arm out to block an eager first year, and says “Graduates only.” Tsukki hands him a beer and clinks his own bottle against it. They drink.

Daichi wouldn’t have allowed it at all, but Suga figures Kageyama is probably a different kind of captain. And he’s pleased, at least, that he and Tsukki seem to be actual friends now.

Suga takes a beer willingly. It is a little awkward, drinking at a high school party, but his nerves are on edge, tightly wound and walking the hot line of Kageyama’s constant gaze. A beer would be nice.

Four beers, it seems, is even nicer. There is a pleasant warmth in his gut as he watches the party go on around him.

In the first hour he makes his rounds, catching up with each of his old teammates in turn, or all at once, but always, always he is aware of Kageyama’s presence in the room. Each time they make eye contact over someone else’s shoulder, Suga’s stomach tenses.

At one point they all gather together, the centrifugal party force pulling them all toward the comfortable seating. Suga sits himself down next to Kageyama, their knees so close to brushing, even though there is room for Suga to sit comfortably on a cushion of his own. Suga lets his knee lean into Kageyama’s, and then pulls back. He wants to make sure. He knows he is the person with power here, as the college guy, as the one with the superior handle on social interaction and the subtle meanings of deliberate knee-touches and throat-clearings and hands brushing the hips of someone else as you slide behind them to get at another drink. He doesn’t want to abuse that power, but at the same time, he isn’t sure Kageyama has it in him to act, and god, does he want to press him up against the wall and--

Kageyama knocks his knee back into Suga’s. Suga smiles and lets his body loosen and relax against the warmth of Kageyama’s side. Kageyama doesn’t flinch or move away.

They all laugh and talk about volleyball, and the future, and whose turn it is to grab a round of beers from the cooler outside. The conversation is not anything particularly interesting or memorable to Suga. It’s nice just to watch everyone enjoying themselves.

He usually only regrets his decision to not play competitive volleyball in university a little. Now, watching a group, a team, interact like this-- it is nostalgic, and warm, and happy, and only a little painful. The alcohol, and the way Kageyama leans into him like it’s normal, like they’ve always done this, keeps it from hurting _too_  much.

Suga shakes his head, trying to clear it of the strange, dull-ache pull of the past. Eventually, blessedly, Hinata gets up to raid the kitchen, and Tsukki goes outside to, presumably, get away from the noise. The younger ones all flit around like adorable anxious moths to the flames of their senpai, and Suga watches as they get up and resume the high-energy party activities of running around and making noise and turning every round object into something that could be spiked, or tossed, or served.

He and Kageyama watch it all, silent, for a minute, their bodies hot where they touch, but then Kageyama rises (pushing up with a hand on Suga’s knee) to yell at the first years, wresting away some breakable looking ceramic orb and stashing it in a cabinet. Suga watches him chastise them, and shake his head, almost fondly, and then distract them with the story of Hinata hitting the headmaster in the face with a ball during a tournament.

Suga lets the warm buzz of alcohol and the soft thump of music cover up the details of the conversation. The only things that filter through are the way Kageyama’s collarbone is visible through his now unbuttoned shirt, and the way that Kageyama looks at Suga during punctuation marks in his story.

The distance between Kageyama and his tiny first years seems so vast. They are children, and he’s grown--way more grown than Suga had imagined. The distance between Kageyama and Suga, however, despite their relative locations in the room, is air fucking tight. Suga struggles to parse it.

“Tsukki knows the rest of the story,” Kageyama claims, the sunny faces of the first years rapt with attention. Suga swears Kageyama smiles at him as he ushers the first years outside to bother Tsukki.

It is strategic, communicated in the slight eye movement and the long line of Kageyama’s neck as he inclines it toward a door behind him, and turns. Suga watches that line stretch out, shaded by Kageyama’s jaw. He wants to sink his teeth into it, so he follows, turning up the volume on the stereo system on his way, just in case.

The paint job on the door is streaked, and a decent portion of the frame around it has faded lines of blue mixed with the white of the rest of the room. Whoever painted it was not a professional, and Suga wonders if Kageyama did it himself, when he was younger.

Once they’re inside, Kageyama shuts the door behind them. “This is my room.” He says it definitively, and shuffles backward, like this is as far as he has planned. Suga gives the room a polite, cursory look-over. There are trophies lined up squarely with the edge of the shelf on the far wall, and the desk has two neat stacks of books and papers. The bed is made, but inexpertly. The whole room has the look of spartan, unpracticed tidiness, like Kageyama had been expecting company but wasn’t totally sure how to prepare for it.

Suga wonders if Kageyama had expected this. It seemed like he anticipated Suga coming to the ceremony, at least, but had he let himself picture the night going like it had? Had he, like Suga had let himself do earlier--eyes squeezed shut and a hand down his pants--imagined them together, here and breathing hot, so hot, and so close to one another?

Suga raises an eyebrow “It looks nice. Did you clean up just for me?”

The line of Kageyama’s brow furrows deeper. He reaches behind himself, and the lock clicks. Suga’s breath catches in his throat. Kageyama doesn’t bother answering, and Suga doesn’t get a the chance to say something else flirtatious and gracefully pushy before Kageyama has his hands tight in Suga’s shirt, his lips pressed hard against his own.

Suga is not surprised by the lack of words exchanged before they get to this point. Their entire history is wrapped up in quiet, unspoken things, in long looks and in how they had moved on the court. They’d played for each other in more ways than one, and it doesn’t take much for Suga to know what Kageyama, in his heavy lidded, shallow-breathed, deep dark stare, wants.

And Suga is ready, _so ready_ , to give it to him. To drive it into him, rhythmic and wet and even.

The way Kageyama kisses is unpracticed and forceful, like he knows he is supposed to put his mouth on Suga’s, but isn’t sure how much of himself to put behind the effort, so he goes ahead and pushes his whole weight into him, thudding him back against the door.

Suga laughs, soft. “Shhh,” he says, “Slow down a minute.”

Kageyama frowns, and Suga worries for a second that he’s wounded him. Kageyama looks off to the side. “I’ve done this before, but not…” he clears his throat and flashes his eyes straight into Suga’s. “Show me.”

It’s a demand. Suga wants to throw him onto the bed right then, but he swallows the hunger down, steadying himself.

“Like this.” He reaches up and takes Kageyama’s face in his hands. His thumbs sure along his cheekbones, he steadies Kageyama’s pace. He holds his face still and kisses him slow, running his tongue along the edge of his upper lip, taking his lower one into his mouth. Kageyama kisses back, the pressure of his lips purposeful and good, and getting better with every nip of teeth.

He pulls back, angling Kageyama’s head to the left and sucking bright red marks along his neck until he is shaking and moldable in his grip, turning him until Kageyama is the one who could, in a few steps, be backed up against the wall. Suga breathes in and nudges Kageyama’s nose with his own, and then opens his eyes. Kageyama is looking down at him, wide-eyed.

“More.”

Kageyama’s voice comes out strangled, but insistent. Suga could cry. He pushes Kageyama backward again, and he makes a beautifully pained noise as his back hits the door. Suga matches it with his own shallow-breathed groan, letting his erection press against Kageyama’s thigh.

“Is this okay?” Suga asks, and Kageyama gives a quick, curt nod.

Suga untucks Kageyama’s shirt from his pants and slides his hands along his sides, feeling the way his muscles shift against his ribcage. He thinks about undressing Kageyama slowly, prolonging it, but fuck, he’s waited long enough. He knows he _could_ hold out longer, but he also knows he doesn’t want to.

“Tobio, take off your clothes.”

Kageyama’s spine stiffens momentarily, but Suga’s fingers press hard and reassuring into his lower back, and Kageyama nods again.

Suga steps back and watches him divest himself of his button-up shirt, of his neatly pressed pants. He stops at his underwear, looking down at Suga. All of a sudden he is all shy boyish angles and soft tan lines, and Suga can’t take it, so he tucks his pointer fingers into the elastic of Kageyama’s underwear and pulls.

There are parts of Kageyama that Suga wants to reach, has to reach, but his tiptoes aren’t enough to get him there. He guides Kageyama back to his bed with a solid hand on his hip, pushing him down and climbing up to straddle him.

Kageyama is so fit. Suga isn’t surprised by this, but the lines of muscle that shade his chest and abs are more than he was prepared for. He’s let himself go slightly soft since quitting competitive sports, but Kageyama’s chest is a ripe thing he could sink his teeth into.

Suga sits on Kageyama’s bare thighs, staying calm, staying _totally and completely as calm as he can_ as he unbuttons his own shirt. When he swings his leg to the side in order to pull off his pants, Kageyama’s hips rise, already missing the pressure, and he groans, not bothering to stifle it. Suga relishes that. It’s nice, in a perverse sort of way, to know he has that effect.

As Suga shakes off his pants and underwear and settles back over Kageyama, kissing him hard, he remembers the fire he’d seen in him when he first met him. He’d been jealous of it, then. Now, though, he wants nothing more than to draw it out of him. Every bite, every quick grind of his already hard cock between Kageyama’s tight clenched thighs brings him closer to getting what he wants-- he wants to shake Kageyama loose and take all the damage he leaves in his wake. Kageyama digs his fingernails deep into the flesh of Suga’s shoulder.

“Tobio,” Suga says, because he wants to know what it will do. Kageyama goes totally still for a second.

“Tobio,” he says again, because Kageyama starts shaking after a moment, and the sounds that are clamboring up his throat are fucking delicious.

Kageyama grinds up into him, his cock pressing hot and needy against Suga’s stomach.

He shakes the dizziness circling his mind and manages to ask, “Do you have condoms and lube?”

Suga can make do if not, but he thinks (he hopes) that in all the subtle planned moves he’s seen Kageyama execute tonight, that he thought this part through. Because he’d brought some too, but it’s in his bag, which is out in the living room. Suga’s not interested in getting dressed enough to go retrieve it. Kageyama nods, brow set, and reaches blindly over to his bedside table. Suga smirks.

When Kageyama slaps the bottle (unopened) and condom into Suga’s hand, he clears his throat and spreads his legs a bit, waiting. His cock falls against his thigh, and it hits Suga hard, because he’d thought about this. He’d thought about every way it could have gone, from an awkward rejection upward, but this version, the one where Kageyama is sweating and panting and fucking _begging_ with all his body splayed wide and ready to be fucked-- this was the best case scenario.

So he obliges, and wraps a hand around Kageyama’s cock, and presses a wet knuckle into him, and then two. Kageyama responds perfectly--tense shoulders rattling their way into looseness, his tight clenched jaw slowly opening to let out breathy gasps of air that Suga wants to drink in, wants to turn into screams.

“Suga Senpai, I--” Kageyama starts, but it turns into a gasp, a stutter of hips, and a high, strained sound.

Senpai.

He’s never actually called Suga that, before. But now it burns into him, making him feel big enough, finally, to fill up the way the word feels in his mouth. His grip on Kageyama’s cock tightens briefly before he lets go and pulls himself up to face him. He holds eye contact as he rolls the condom onto himself. A muscle moves in Kageyama’s jaw.

When Suga pushes finally, _finally_ into the tight heat of him, the sound he makes is guttural and wild and nothing like Suga has ever heard before. He wants to hear it again, so he slams his hips into him again, deeper, and god, Kageyama throws his head back and lets it happen, his thighs in a vice grip around Suga’s back. Suga can feel his thigh muscles flex and shift around him as he fucks him.

And it is good. It is _so good_. Suga is not new to this. He’s had good sex before. But this is the culmination of things he’s wanted since before he was totally sure what he even wanted sex to _be_. Back when he knew he wanted _something_ from Kageyama, but he didn’t quite know what it meant, or what to do with it.

Kageyama is a quick study. Already, he matches Suga’s pace with the reciprocal push of his hips, with the firm, studied pressure of his fingers on Suga’s shoulders as Suga grinds down into him. Somehow it is simultaneously measured and wild at once, but Suga knows that that’s just how Kageyama is, so he lets his lip get bitten and his back get scratched in straight, parallel lines.

There are party noises happening outside Kageyama’s room, and Suga registers the laughter and thudding feet and pulse of music with the slight portion of his mind that is lucid enough to hear it. He knows that the sounds they’re making are traveling at a competitive decibel level, but it doesn’t stop him from reaching his hands as high as they can to press Kageyama’s wrists above his head. It doesn’t stop him from biting hard at the places on Kageyama’s neck where a simple lick would be enough to make him shiver.

He reaches down where Kageyama’s cock is pressing into his stomach between them. He’s determined to make him come first, determined to show him how it’s done. It doesn’t take much else-- a few twists of his wrist, and slams of his hips, and Kageyama is coming undone underneath him. The line of his neck is a loosed arc as he throws his head back against his pillow. Suga memorizes the feel of him shuddering, and the way his voice shakes as he whispers Suga’s name into his ear--it’s more than enough to bring Suga’s orgasm crashing down after.

After his head clears and his ears stop ringing, he opens his eyes and Kageyama is still there underneath him, flushed and shaking. They look at each other and Suga grins at him, raising his eyebrows. He is about to say something, probably, but then-- “Where did Kageyama-Senpai go?” they hear it from outside, and they freeze.

There’s a pause, and then Suga recognizes Tsukki’s laugh. Suga covers his mouth with the hand that isn’t propping him up over Kageyama. He looks down at him, wondering if he’ll be embarrassed, but of course he isn’t. He smiles--a slight, sharp angle of lips--and shrugs. His hair is mussed and his chest is flushed and his fingers are traveling lightly along the curve of Suga’s ass and up his back.

Suga laughs, and Kageyama’s slice of smile relaxes into something wider and warmer. It blooms in Suga’s chest, and he lays back onto the bed. Kageyama curls his body around him, long limbs tucked around his sides.

“So,” Suga says, breaking their silence, “I’ll be graduating from my university in two years.” He runs his fingernails up Kageyama’s neck and into his hair.

Kageyama scoffs, and Suga can’t see his face, but he can almost feel his eyebrows knitting together, and he can hear the tiny hint of playfulness in his voice as he shrugs, saying, “I’ll see if I can make it.”

It’s a _joke_ , and it’s a little absurd how proud Suga feels that Kageyama pulled it off. He rolls his shoulder, shaking Kageyama lose from laying on it.

He lifts his head and looks at Suga, his eyes serious again.

There are a number of milestones Suga can already see reaching with him, but he doesn’t let himself picture them fully, yet. Instead, he smirks and says, “That’s understandable,” and runs his thumb along Kageyama’s cheek, and kisses the place where his neck meets his shoulder. A bruise has already started rising on his skin there. Kageyama groans, and a few seconds later, Suga hears the bass outside the door thump sharply louder. He smiles knowingly against Kageyama’s neck.

Kageyama clears his throat, and Suga lifts his head. He’s holding in a grin, the corner of his mouth tucked and dimpled. It’s adorable.

“I might be busy that day, though, so you should stay here tonight instead.” He pulls Suga to him and kisses him, sure and firm. When he pulls away, the smile has unfolded fully on his face. “Just in case.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Zee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Zee/pseuds/Zee) for the beta!
> 
> Please, please yell at me about Kagesuga, either in the comments or [on tumblr](http://ouroborosbites.tumblr.com/)!


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